


The Aftermath

by cloudymonet



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, I have no idea where this is going, Lily Evans deserves a proper apology, M/M, Marauders' Era, Sirius is sort of sorry Snape suffered a near-death experience
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2018-05-20
Packaged: 2019-05-09 10:36:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14714450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloudymonet/pseuds/cloudymonet
Summary: Remus, unlike James, swells up with guilt and regret the moment he learns that Severus Snape prefers briefs to boxers.





	The Aftermath

Sirius Black, as he lives and breathes in his pseudo-Byronic fashion, has an impossibly captivating flair for dramatics. One could say that Remus Lupin, on the other hand, has a flair for keeping his head down and his (mind you, sensitive) nose out of other people’s business. James Potter, much like the Potters that came before him and will come long after, is irrevocably gifted at mucking things up (however unintentional said mucking up might be). And as for Peter Pettigrew, well — we’ll get back to him later.

It is mid-spring in 1976 when James Potter makes a scene on the lawn beside the Qudditch pitch accompanied by one Sirius Black and an eager Peter Pettigrew.

Remus Lupin is present as well with his nose in a book and, as a result, entirely out of business that doesn’t concern him.

It is important to note that later, looking back on the incident, James will feel redeemably ashamed of what transpired on this day. He is, unlike Sirius, somewhat concerned with chivalry and moral compasses, sometimes more-so than recklessness and grandeur.

Remus, unlike James, swells up with guilt and regret the moment he learns that Severus Snape prefers briefs to boxers.

“Haven’t we caused Snape enough trouble?” says Remus quietly as the four of them are escorted to the tartan plastered office of their Head of House by a red-faced Fillius Flitwick.

Why he phrased this as a “yes or no” question, Remus has no idea. Because they have, in fact, caused Severus Snape enough trouble. For a lifetime. This year alone.

For some reason or other, he (Remus) seems to be the only person who remembers that Snape almost _died_ because of _him_. Well, technically, because of Sirius, but who dwells on the technicalities of very nearly swallowing a fellow classmate whole.

Peter, who probably enjoys the sight of Snape’s underpants more than anyone, looks affronted at the question.

“Why are you sticking up for _Snivellus_? Especially after he tried to—“

“As I am sure you can recall,” Remus all but snarls. “he was almost eaten alive!”

Sirius, on the other side of him, immediately tenses. Because he is sort of sorry that Snape suffered a near-death experience and very mortified that he almost became Remus’ midnight snack. This, of course, is a more palatable way of saying, _“Moony, I’m sorry I caused you to almost murder a student on Hogwarts’ grounds for a laugh. I’m not so different from the stark, raving lunatics who raised me, you see.”_

If you had asked Remus nine months ago about Sirius Black, the word _lunatic_ would not have crossed his mind. It’s been a long year.

When they reach Minerva McGonagall’s abode, she gives them a look of such scathing disapproval James actually shrinks visibly into himself.

She regards them with a pointed chin and narrow eyes for seconds that stretch on agonizingly. When she speaks, it is with calm authority.

“Pettigrew,” she says to each of their startled surprise. “Is it true that the four of you attacked Mr. Snape? Unprovoked?”

Peter swallows.

“I wouldn’t say unprovoked—“

“Snape attacked first?” asks McGonagall, eyebrows raised.

“I mean — not exactly. He hit James with something _really_ nasty, though and—“

“You mean Mr. Snape retaliated in self-defense after you cornered him, four on one—“

“It wasn’t four on one,” James cuts in suddenly. “Just me. They were only bystanders.”

McGonagall turns to him and the room goes cold. A steely silence stretches on. Then, she says, “Potter, I wonder — are you aware of what sets Gryffindor apart from the other houses?”

This question is simple enough to answer. Gryffindor, like Hufflepuff, values loyalty and virtue but Gryffindors find fulfillment in self-actualization rather than outside reassurance. They are unruly yet steadfast in their endeavors unlike cool, calm and collected Slytherin; determination in a Gryffindor is a strength as well as a weakness. They pride themselves on being knowledgeable but not without reason, not for the sake of learning or shameless swot. In other words they are, as a whole, an inspired but reckless bunch of valiant juveniles. Plucky, if you will. Where dwell the brave at heart.

James Potter does not say any of these things.

“No answer? I see. Shall I pose a different question?” McGonagall does not wait for a response. “Tell me, Mr. Potter, would you say the behavior you exhibited today was at any point brave or courageous? When you were, as I heard, dangling Mr. Snape above you for all of Hogwarts to see, did you feel especially proud?”

In this moment, James does not feel proud. Not at all. McGonagall gives them all a good talking to and, especially, lays it on good and thick to Remus about duty and honor and, “If you are ill-fit to exercise your duties as a Prefect as they stand, Mr. Lupin, we will seek leadership elsewhere.”

She doesn’t mention the incident that occurred early on last term, but it looms over them regardless and makes the space feel impossibly small. James doesn’t say a word the entire way back to Gryffindor Tower.

When they reach the portrait of the Fat Lady, he says, quietly, “I think — Evans —she deserves a proper apology.”

James sits in the common room for six hours. Lily Evans does not make an appearance.

In the girls’ dormitory, Lily is trying very hard not to think about her best friend of seven years and the slur that he spat at her with such venom she very nearly cried. Very nearly. She has not cried yet.

And why should she, as Severus Snape is no longer her best friend of seven years but a pretentious, greasy-haired bigot up to his nose in dark magic. She is better off, _far_ better off without him, and she is done with excuses, done with second chances (she has made and given so many).

Lily is sixteen years-old, a year from now she will be an adult and she shan’t coddle ignorance any longer. She will not avoid politics or any substantial discussion that doesn’t involve _Most Potente Potions_ to spare his feelings. _His feelings!_ Or rather, to prevent an argument that he cannot logically win.

(Years later, Lily will meet Severus on the field of battle. He will freeze, and she will have the upper hand.)

After much contemplation, Severus finds himself outside of Gryffindor Tower. Lily’s friend ( _Macdougal? Macdonald?_ ) regards him with mild distrust and blatant impatience, but fetches Lily anyway.

It is bewildering, miserable and irritating beyond belief that he should fuck up so disastrously because of James Potter. But it is, after all, just a word — a ludicrous word that holds no real weight in the larger picture he will undoubtedly help paint.

Lily is smart, more intelligent by far than the majority student body of Hogwarts, but she _doesn’t get it_ and likely never will. It is Severus’ responsibility, his debt owed to seven years of friendship and loyalty, to protect her from that which she does not understand. Friendship and loyalty, because what else is there but platonic affection gift-wrapped and tightly bound? To: Severus, with love (but let’s not get carried away).

But Lily no longer cares for his affection, least of all his protection. She leaves him in front of the Fat Lady mid splutter, and Severus’ insides twist and contort because she was supposed to forgive him and she hadn’t. He’d expected an argument and prepared for a passionate dispute, but she’d been entirely disinterested. Frustrated, maybe, but unmoved by any apology. This had thrown him off unexpectedly.

He is so angry with her insolence and disarmed by her nonchalance that he does not realize, fully, what he has lost until he is lying in the dungeons in his four-poster bed. And grief overtakes him, piling up like bricks in his chest. It is suddenly hard to swallow, hard to breathe and surely, before the year ends, things will go back to the way they were before.

(They do not.)

The following morning, James stops Lily at the portrait hole with difficulty.

She pulls her wand on him immediately and calls him an “obnoxious, self-involved arsehole” and “four-eyes” deservedly.

“You’re right,” says James, leaning against the wall behind him. “You’re absolutely right. I’m an arsehole and a prat and a total toerag and I’m sorry.”

Lily shrugs. “Okay...what is it exactly that you’re sorry for, Potter? Why are you apologizing to me when you should be apologizing to Connor Coppernickel? Or Paisley Green? Or, you know, anyone else you’ve bullied repeatedly?”

James stuffs both hands in his robe pockets and stares determinedly at the floor. Then, after a moment, he looks directly at Lily.

“I’ll apologize to Coppernickel,” he says. “And Green. And Julie Hoover. And Barnaby Wood.”

He says, “And the reason why I’m apologizing to _you_ , Evans, is because I’m a prick to you and you don’t deserve it. I like getting a rise out of you, but I never take your feelings into account. And I’m more sorry about yesterday than I’ve ever been about anything. I’m sorry about Snape and I’m sorry I embarrassed you. I’m just — sorry.”

His shoulders drop lamely, and before Lily can form an adequate response to his oddly, albeit uncomfortably, sincere apology, he strides past her up the staircase to the boys’ dormitory and doesn’t look back.

And then hell freezes over because Lily feels something other than furious annoyance for James Potter.

It isn’t until later, much later, that she sees him again in a corridor holding a large piece of folded parchment. She thinks about backtracking, about letting bygones be bygones silently from a comfortable but friendly distance, but she doesn’t.

Instead she says, “Hi, Potter.”

He doesn’t look at all surprised to see her. He tucks the parchment under his cloak.

“Evans,” he says with a nod.

Lily thinks, has always thought, that James could be charming if he weren’t so big-headed and loud. He’s standing underneath a large, crackling torch and the light looks gold on his umber face. Here, she can overlook his long nose and the large, square glasses that take up too much of his face.

“I just — I wanted to say,” stumbles Lily because she isn’t sure what she wants to say at all. She sighs. “I’m not angry with you. Not anymore. I think — it might be good if — if we were civil to one another.”

She throws out a hand instinctively for him to shake and feels awkward immediately after she’s done it. James doesn’t at all help when he looks down at her hand with a funny look that could maybe pass for a smile. He shakes it anyway, though.

He says, “You’ve a firm handshake, Evans.”

“Ta,” she says. “My dad says a good handshake is very important for a modern woman.”

He hasn’t yet let go of her hand and, against her deepest wishes not to, she blushes.

“Anyway — er,” she says detaching her hand from his and folding her arms. “good luck on Potions, tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” says James. “I’d say the same to you but — it’s not as if you’ll need it.”

“Thanks,” mutters Lily, a little embarrassed.

When James lies down in the boys dormitory that evening, he thinks very little of Potions and a lot of Lily Evans and how much he really would like to take her to Hogsmeade if she gives him the chance.

(Eventually, she does.) 

**Author's Note:**

> i don’t know what possessed me to write this, but here we are. i didn’t edit this at all, so if you see any mistakes let me know! 
> 
> also: although i, like many, prefer sirius’ “prank” to have occurred after snape’s worst memory (because it just makes more sense story and character-wise, i think) but canonically speaking it technically happens probably the end of their fourth year/beginning of fifth year. in this, it happens the beginning of fifth year. so, yes it’s shitty that they still go after snape given what almost happened but i don’t think they’ve unpacked the full weight of the incident and are sort of just trying to forget it ever happened. so this reopens a not-so-old wound, especially in a traumatized remus lupin. cue: angst.


End file.
